If I had a nickel for every time my mom said; “Oh my – You are just. like.your. father!” Now, mind you, this is usually stated in a rather loud voice, and is not to be mistaken as a compliment. At least not at the time that she is broadcasting this fact.

Research states that we have a tendency towards either left-brained or right-brained thinking. I “think” that I am, however, the exception to the rule. (And I think that I think this from my left-sided thinker. Ha!Kinda “Dr. Seuss-ish”!). I really do believe that I am pretty close to a 50/50 split. 50% left brained, like my dad. Logical, analytical, mathematical, thrifty, conservative and stubborn (Mama no like that last one…!). But… I am ALSO a right-brained thinker, like my mom. We are creative, intuitive, spiritual; possibility thinkers (dreamers) with a hint of mischief. OK. On occasion, slightly more than a hint… (Did I tell you the story about when my mom was a little girl at (Catholic) “summer camp”…? Snuck into the nuns tent when they were sleeping and hung their “double D’s” out on the clothesline for all to enjoy…)

Growing up as the oldest of seven, I was “Mama’s little helper” from day one. My “maternal instincts” developed at a very early age. Some of my brothers have been known to throw the word “bossy” around (what the heck??) when we are reminiscing about days gone by… their rough life growing up with two older sisters. Ya… whatever. Let me just say, in my own defense, that – to this day – I would do anything in my power to protect my sister or any of my brothers from anyone or anything. Family, ALL FAMILY, is my beginning and my end. Period.

My mom taught me SO much about life, love, happiness… Those lessons and experiences helped shape me into the woman, wife and mom that I am today. Looking back, there were so many things that I did not understand, so many unanswered questions… all crystal clear once I became a mom myself. I have to laugh now, thinking back on the days when she would declare that “for the rest of the day“, we were not allowed to use the word “Mom”. Or “Mommy”. Or anything even remotely close. Pam. We had to call her Pam. Alrighty then. Pam it is. That’s my mama.

As far back as I can remember, my mom always encouraged me to be me. I’m a little (Ha!) “out of the box” at times, but she has always supported and embraced that part of my soul, allowing me to grow into my authentic self. Truth be told, I am still growing into that “authentic self”, and she is still there supporting and encouraging me every step of the way. Yep. That’s my mama. My mom makes me laugh. A lot. Belly laughs that make you cry. My mom is funny, and I love that about her. Sometimes when you’re down and out, you just need someone to tell you to “put your big girl panties on and deal with it“. Well, friends… that’s NOT my mama. Sometimes, however, you need someone to rub your back (even if it’s long distance), tell you that it’s OK to cry and reassure you that everything is going to be OK. Even when it’s not. That’s my mama.

So today I say, thank you mom… for everything that you are; I am; we are. From now until forever, I will always be proud to say…

Yep. That’s my mama…xo

Oh… and P.S. – You still make the best “homemade, from scratch” cinnamon rolls on. the. planet. Enough said.

We are the “bookends” in our family; Michael and I. I’m the oldest of seven at 51… Mike’s the youngest at 27. Michael was born about a year after I got married. I grew up in St. Louis, but had moved to Kansas City after college, so the two of us never actually had a chance to “grow up together”. But there is now good news. Really good news for me. My mom, dad and Michael are moving to Kansas City. To say that I am excited does not even begin to touch the surface of what I am feeling. Just typing that fills my eyes with tears. There is just so much time to make up for… andI absolutely cannot wait!!!

Poem: “Welcome to Holland” by Emily Perl Kingsley

November 12, 2008

I am often asked to describe the experience of raising a child with a disability – to try to help people who have not shared that unique experience to understand it, to imagine how it would feel. It’s like this…

When you’re going to have a baby, it’s like planning a fabulous vacation trip – to Italy. You buy a bunch of guide books and make your wonderful plans. The coliseum. The Michelangelo David. The gondolas in Venice. You may learn some handy phrases in Italian. It’s all very exciting.

After months of eager anticipation, the day finally arrives. You pack your bags and off you go. Several hours later, the plane lands. The stewardess comes in and says, “Welcome To Holland”.

“Holland?!?” you say, “What do you mean “Holland”??? I signed up for Italy! I’m supposed to be in Italy. All my life I’ve dreamed of going to Italy”

But there’s been a change in the flight plan. They’ve landed in Holland and there you must stay.

The important thing is that they haven’t taken you to a horrible, disgusting, filthy place, full of pestilence, famine and disease. It’s just a different place.

So you must go and buy new guide books. And you must learn a whole new language. And you will meet a whole new group of people you would never have met.

It’s just a different place. It’s slower-paced than Italy, less flashy than Italy. But after you’ve been there for a while and you catch your breath, you look around…and you begin to notice that Holland has windmills…Holland has tulips. Holland even has Rembrandts.

But everyone you know is busy coming and going from Italy…and they’re all bragging about what a wonderful time they had there. And for the rest of your life, you will say“Yes that’s where I was supposed to go. That’s what I had planned”.

And the pain of that will never, ever, ever, ever go away…because the loss of that dream is a very significant loss.

But…if you spend your life mourning the fact that you didn’t get to Italy, you may never be free to enjoy the very special, the very lovely things…about Holland.

And so Mom, Dad and Michael; we are all moving on to a fresh new chapter. Your big move to Kansas City. It may not be Italy, or even Holland; but I can tell you it’s gonna be great. Because I love you, and that’s enough. And so a song for you, “Mike the Singer”… from someone who loves you very, very much. xo

My face may be different But my feelings the same I laugh and I cry And I take pride in my gains I was sent here among you To teach you to love As God in the heavens Looks down from above To Him I’m no different His love knows no bounds It’s those here among you In cities and towns That judge me by standards That man has imparted But this family I’ve chosen Will help me get started For I’m one of the children So special and few That came here to learn The same lessons as you That love is acceptance It must come from the heart We all have the same purpose Though not the same start The Lord gave me life To live and embrace And I’ll do it as you do But at my own pace